The Way You Make Me Feel
by thegirlwhoreadsfanfic
Summary: A short Klaine drabble. Kurt decides to show Blaine just how much he makes him feel in glee club one day. First Klaine story! one-shot.


The halls of McKinley seemed to mock Blaine Anderson as he trudged through them with a notebook in one hand and a Kleenex in the other – their yellow walls reminding him of the short story by Charlotte Gilman of a woman going insane while being practically caged in a room with ghastly yellow wallpaper. He certainly could feel them closing in around him, the tightening of his lungs being a minute indication of the claustrophobia setting in ever so slowly. A sneeze threatened to erupt as he turned into the choir room, but it faded away with a twitch of his nose. He took a seat next to Rachel who shot him a sympathetic look.

"Still not feeling well?" Blaine shook his head miserably, a rather large sniffle being his reply. She frowned and patted his arm. A hopeful smile spread across her face then and she patted his arm yet again, "I can always bring you some of my special jumpstart tea. It's full of nutritious supplements – just what you need to fight this cold."

Blaine smiled politely, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but there was a multitude of reasons to be cautious of any type of food Rachel Berry tried to feed you. He opened to his mouth to courteously decline her offer, that he would be fine, when a wolf whistle behind him from Santana cut him off. Glancing to her, he noticed that her attention was fixated on whoever was at the door to the choir room. Blaine's honey-hazel eyes followed her gaze to land on none other than his boyfriend, Kurt Hummel, dressed in all black and _damn_, how were those jeans not sewn onto him?

Kurt's glasz eyes flickered up to Santana and then down to Blaine. He winked and took a seat beside his boyfriend, smiling coyly. Blaine was having a hard enough time breathing properly because of the mucus clogged in his throat, but now it was damn near impossible to even remember the mechanics of breathing. A full view of Kurt's back was the sight Blaine met as he turned to address him; the porcelain-like boy had turned away from ex-Warbler to whisper something to Brittany who, upon further inspection, was dressed similarly to Kurt. Realization dawned on Blaine as he looked over his shoulder to see that Santana was as well. They all three wore button ups that were tucked into their black skinny jeans, the top of it left open to reveal a plain white t-shirt, a white belt tied into a bow adorned their jeans and the girls both had bandanas in their hair. Huh. He turned back to face Mr. Shuester as he walked into the classroom, greeting them warmly.

The dapper teen would normally give him some sort of acknowledgement, ill or not, but his mind was preoccupied with what Kurt and the two girls were up to. They were obviously going to perform a number, but what?

The clap of a pair of hands startled Blaine from his musings and brought his attention back to their glee club instructor. "Yes, Kurt?" Blaine had apparently completely missed the boy beside him raising his hand.

"Mr. Shue, if I may, I have prepared something for today's lesson, if that's alright," Kurt seemed utterly calm on the surface, maybe just a hint of cockiness tinting his tone, but Blaine caught the nervous tap of his fingers in his lap. He stood, running his hands down his thighs to brush away nonexistent dust and Blaine swallowed around a thick lump in his throat.

"Of course, Kurt," Mr. Shue smiled encouragingly and gestured that he had the floor before taking a seat on his stool beside the piano.

Kurt took center-room and nodded for Santana and Brittany to join him. They stood behind him, both looking rather eager to begin their performance. "This is just something I sort of threw together this weekend with the help of these… lovely ladies behind me. It's just a small reminder to someone just how much they affect me, how they make me feel." Here, Kurt smirked and nodded to the band to start.

The drums started and Blaine didn't instantly recognize the beat. He sat nearly dumbstruck next to Rachel as the three began stepping and snapping in time to the beat, nothing about the beat was familiar in Blaine's already muddled brain. That, however, did not mean he wasn't not enjoying the show. Kurt gave out a little cry and then – bam – it all clicked into place. Michael Jackson. Blaine smiled to himself before he blinked and suddenly became very worried.

Michael Jackson.

Kurt Hummel was about to do Michael fucking Jackson.

_God help me_, Blaine sent up a quick prayer just as Kurt started singing. Kurt and Santana had both turned on Brittany, dance-chasing her around the room.

_Hey pretty baby with the_

_High heels on_

_You give me fever_

_Like I've never, ever known_

Blaine was beside himself as they flirtily danced around each other, Kurt looking nothing like the baby penguin he had called himself the year prior. Kurt was practically growling out the lyrics and when he turned to sing one portion of the verse directly at Blaine, eyes locking with his own, he was sure he had died and gone to Kurt Hummel Heaven. Or was this Hell since he could only see and not touch?

_I'll pick you up in my car_

_And we'll paint the town_

_Just kiss me baby_

_And tell me twice_

_That you're the one for me_

Kurt pointed to Blaine and then pointed to himself before spinning around and returning back to his original position in front of the girls as they started the chorus's dance. As the song continued into the second verse, Blaine couldn't help but start tying the lyrics to the problems he and Kurt were facing at the present time.

**Sebastian**.

The name did something to Blaine. He wasn't disgusted by him; he was merely just not impressed. Kurt didn't see it that way, though. He wanted Blaine to confront Sebastian and tell him that "no means no" and be done with it. The sick boy didn't understand why that had been deemed necessary and why Kurt felt the need to dictate how he handled the Warbler because it really wasn't a problem. Hazel eyes found blue ones and the younger felt a shiver run down his spine.

_I never felt so in love before_

_Just promise me baby, _

_You'll love me forevermore_

_I swear I'm keepin' you satisfied_

'_Cause you're the one for me_

Kurt was scared, Blaine realized. He was scared that he was losing him to some other guy, one who was daring and not afraid to take risks, one who didn't have any insecurities. Kurt was pleading with Blaine to see that he was the only one for him and that all he wanted was to be reassured that it was the same case for Blaine. Something tore at Blaine's inside as this dawned on him – the need to rush up to Kurt and pull him into a tight embrace surprising him.

And, whoa, where did Kurt go?

_My lonely days are gone_

**Oh**.

Kurt's breath was hot in his ear as he sang that line. In the midst of his epiphany, Kurt had hopped up on the risers and had slowly made his way from one side to where Blaine sat. The back of his chair tipped forward until he was forced to stand and he quickly spun around to face Kurt as Santana and Brittany each placed a hand on his shoulder.

_The way you make me feel_

The girls behind him echoed Kurt as he sang the chorus, stalking towards him with a playful smile, but his eyes holding more emotion than the song called for. Something flickered in them as he read Blaine's expression and he nodded shortly, answering Blaine's silent question about the meaning behind this particular choice in song.

Blaine laughed as he realized they wanted to play cat and mouse. He grinned and played along, running and hopping up on random furniture placed about the room. Energy seemed to come from nowhere, clearing his head just enough for him to play around and then join in the end of the song's choreography.

Just as the last note faded away, Blaine thought _What the hell?_ And pulled Kurt into a hug, reaching up a little to subtly press a kiss to his temple.

Yeah, Blaine knew how he made Kurt feel.

He hoped that through his embrace, he could show Kurt just how he made Blaine feel.


End file.
